Crossing the finish line
by BHP
Summary: Marking a turning point in a unique fashion.


A/N: I spotted a comment on the FFnet Forum that got me thinking – what would Hardcastle do when Mark graduates from law school? I took it a step further and wondered what he would do when Mark passed the Bar exam.

I shouldn't let my mind wander, but I did and here are the results. There is one small reference to my story "Fathers and sons", but if you blink, you may miss it.

Crossing the finish line

Mark finally let himself relax. The official letter with the results of the Bar exam had just arrived, confirming that he had passed and would be able to start practicing law as a fully-fledged lawyer. The wait for these results had been much worse than that for the university results. He hadn't really been worried that he wouldn't graduate from university; more like, deeply concerned that the other shoe would drop and something would go wrong. A lifetime of experience had taught him to never count his chickens before they hatched.

Once he had finished his university studies, though, concern was too mild a word for the feelings that had gripped him. Sometimes, even worry didn't seem strong enough. Perhaps brooding might come closer. He knew he'd been almost impossible to live with in the run-up to the Bar exam. He'd been studying every minute he could spare, and trying to keep up with all the work around the estate. Late nights had become routine, and getting to bed before the early hours of the morning had become a thing of the past. Still, it had all been worth it to see his name on this one letter – the one admitting him, Mark McCormick, to the California Bar.

The Judge had seemed supremely unconcerned by everything, as if all Mark's worrying and frantic studying were unnecessary. That kind of blind faith both humbled and irritated Mark by turns, depending on how stressed he was feeling. It was wonderful to realise that someone he knew was so sure of his success that there was no reason to second-guess its eventual appearance. At other times, it was all Mark could do not to lose his temper and tell Hardcastle in no uncertain terms that he was just an ex-con, and there was no way that he would ever be bright enough to pass an exam that other, better-prepared people often failed.

Still, re-reading the letter in his hand, he found himself smiling until his face hurt. It looked as if Hardcastle's faith had been justified. Now, all he needed to do was find a suitable way to surprise the judge with the news. That could be more difficult than actually getting through law school and passing the Bar, as the judge seemed to have an uncanny ability to spot any attempt at withholding information. Not that Mark really tried to hide anything from the other man after all this time. In their one excruciatingly honest conversation following Sonny's death in Las Vegas, they had both bared their souls on the state of their relationship with each other. Hardcastle was the father Mark had never known, and trying to get one over on him would take some serious planning. Luckily, the judge was out visiting Frank, leaving Mark with an entire afternoon to come up with a way to tell the judge his news.

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Hardcastle actually had no reason for visiting Frank at the station, other than the need to escape Mark's almost panicked attempts to keep busy. He knew the younger man was worried about the results of the Bar exam, and nothing he'd said had been able to convince Mark that he had no reason for concern. Staying at the estate this afternoon would only have caused an argument, as Mark was strung tight enough to snap. He understood exactly what the kid was feeling, having felt much the same when waiting for the results of sitting his own Bar exam many years ago. Still, he had some objectivity this time around, and he knew that Mark would come through the exam with good results. The kid was actually better prepared than he had been.

Frank was out when Hardcastle arrived at the station, so he took a chair in the office and settled down to wait. Less than fifteen minutes later, Frank came in and dumped a pile of file folders on the corner of the desk.

"Hi, Milt. There's nothing wrong, is there?" Frank queried, "I wasn't expecting to see you again before the party."

Hardcastle just shook his head with a smile. "No, nothing's wrong. I just couldn't sit there watching Mark worry. It's starting to wear me down. You'd think he'd listen to me when I tell him there's nothing to worry about."

Frank simply laughed. "You know he's not going to stop worrying until he gets the official letter. And knowing Mark, he's probably sure he's going to fail. You set a pretty high standard for us lesser mortals to meet, you know." At Hardcastle's slightly shocked look, Frank chuckled. "Oh, come on, you know it's true. And the last thing Mark wants to do is disappoint you. Your opinion matters way more than he lets on."

"Hell, Frank, he was better prepared than I was when I sat the Bar, and I was one of the best candidates in my year. Besides, he couldn't disappoint me as long as he tried his best." Hardcastle's simple statement made Frank wonder whether Mark realised just how much he meant to the judge. He considered mentioning it to Mark the next time he saw the man. Then again, perhaps it was better to leave the whole topic alone, as he couldn't think of single, natural way to bring this sort of thing up in an ordinary conversation. And the embarrassment level of sitting Mark down to tell him about Hardcastle's feelings was also too high, though Frank wasn't sure whether he or Mark would be the one feeling it the most.

"Well, the results should be mailed out this week, and then maybe he'll relax a little. At least until he starts worrying about clients and bills and all that sort of thing. I'll just give you a call as soon as he gets the results, get the ball rolling. You remember what you need to do?" Hardcastle wanted this surprise party to be perfect. He hadn't put this much effort into hiding anything from Mark in years.

Frank sighed "Yes, Milt, I know exactly what to do. You call me, I call Claudia. She calls Mattie and then loads all the snacks into the car. She collects me and we come to the estate. Mattie will call someone else, who will then call someone else, and eventually, everyone will show up at the house." Hardcastle smiled sheepishly. "You know, Milt, I put less work into planning an undercover operation than you've put into this party." Frank's amusement was plain.

"Okay, okay. Laugh all you like, I just want this to be right. He's put a lot of work into this, and he deserves to enjoy it." Hardcastle rose from his chair and made for the door. "I'll leave you to it, then. That pile of folders looks like it needs your attention more than I do." The look on Frank's face made Hardcastle laugh out loud. "Enjoy the afternoon, Frank." Before Frank could call him back, the judge made his escape, still chuckling over the look of disgust on Frank's face. He actually didn't have anything else to prepare for the party. He'd already organised the necessary drinks, and hidden them away in the main house. After all, cleaning behind the filing cabinets in the basement had never been one of McCormick's favourite chores, and the judge was sure that he wouldn't look there in the next few days.

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On arriving back at the Gulls' Way, the first thing Hardcastle noticed was the conspicuous absence of McCormick. There was no sign of him anywhere in the yard and the silence was slightly eerie. Figuring that Mark had probably gone down to the beach to watch the waves, the judge walked over to the cliff and looked down. The beach was empty. Starting to feel concerned, the judge headed back towards the house, detouring half way back to check in at the gatehouse. Silence greeted him here as well.

Heading into the main house, Hardcastle automatically turned into the den. If McCormick had gone out, he would have left a message on the desk. Immediately spotting McCormick sitting in his usual spot, the judge felt the tension drain out of him. "Hey there, kiddo. I was wondering where you'd disappeared to." Hardcastle's cheery greeting was met with silence. Taking a proper look at Mark, the judge saw his shoulders were slumped as though carrying a burden too heavy for one person to bear. In just one second, all the tension was back in the room. "Mark, what's wrong?"

"I got a letter in the mail today, Judge." The defeated tone made the judge's heart sink. This had to be bad. The kid looked devastated. What could possibly be so bad that McCormick looked like this? Mark held the envelope out to the judge, his hand shaking so badly that Hardcastle could barely get a grip on the envelope. The minute the letter was out of his hands, Mark let his head drop again. Hardcastle turned the letter over and saw the official seal on the back. It was Mark's results from the Bar exam. "I thought that you should see it right away. It affects both of us, after all." Mark's voice was subdued, and the judge suddenly felt as if the ground had opened up beneath him. He'd been so sure, but Mark's behaviour implied that things hadn't gone well.

Walking around the desk, the judge sat heavily in his chair. He wasn't at all sure he could read the letter. "Kiddo, are you sure …" "Go ahead, Judge, read it. You need to know." Mark seemed resigned. Leaning back, the judge eased the single sheet of paper out of the envelope. Before opening it, he felt obliged to try lifting Mark's spirits. "You know, nothing in here changes anything for us. Not really … not where it matters." Baring his emotions wasn't something the judge enjoyed doing, and he wasn't going to make a big deal of this. There was always the next sitting of the Bar exam. Still, if the news were that bad, Hardcastle was going to insist on having the paper checked again. It just wasn't possible for Mark to have failed!

Taking one final look at the now trembling McCormick, the judge unfolded the sheet of paper and began to read. At first, nothing made any sense. Going back to the beginning, he read it again. According to the letter, Mark had not only passed the Bar exam, but he was in the top ten candidates in the state. Then he looked up to see McCormick shaking with laughter and wagging a finger at him. "You little … McCormick, you nearly gave me a heart attack. How could you …"

"Yes, Hardcase, something you wanted to say?" Mark was now laughing so hard he could barely stay seated on the chair. "Oh, Judge, you should've seen your face. I swear, I'll never forget that look." Giving in gracefully, Hardcastle started to laugh as well. "Okay, kiddo, you got me." The more he thought about it, the funnier Mark's little performance seemed. Soon both men were laughing so hard they were almost in tears. Finally getting himself under control, the judge reached for the telephone to call Frank and tell him the good news. Mark raised an eyebrow in the direction of the telephone, and Hardcastle clarified "Just going to call Frank and tell him about the letter." Mark looked a little uncomfortable, "Judge, can we just keep this between us for now?" Hardcastle's questioning gaze demanded an answer. "I just want a little time to get used to the idea that it's over, you know?" Hardcastle nodded in understanding, and then said, "I thought you would want to celebrate." The statement was almost a question, and Mark's answer was a nod. "I thought so too, but right now, I'm not sure what I want. I'll let you know when I recover from the stress of waiting for the mail. Right now, I think I'm going to go down to the beach for a while."

Hardcastle watched through the window as Mark walked down to the beach. When he was sure Mark wasn't coming back, he picked up the telephone and called Frank. Luckily, the other man was still in his office. "Hey, Frank, it's Milt. I just wanted to let you know the letter came, and it's time to make those calls." Smiling at the other man's answer, Hardcastle nodded quickly. "Yeah, I know he doubts himself, but maybe now he'll see that he really can do this." Quickly finishing up the conversation, Hardcastle hung up the telephone and went down to the basement to bring up the beers and other drinks he had hidden there. He wanted to be finished before Mark came back from the beach, not to mention he wanted everything ready before Frank and the others arrived for the party.

After finishing up with that chore, the judge went up to his bedroom and took a small package out of his cupboard. He had wanted to do something special for Mark when the younger man passed this final exam, but now that the time had come, he wasn't sure this was the best idea he'd ever had. What if he brought up memories of things best forgotten, or made Mark think of all the things he'd given up along the way to becoming a lawyer? Sighing a little, he took the package downstairs with him. It was too late to change his mind now.

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Mark enjoyed his quiet walk on the beach, and ended up sitting in one of his favourite spots. Looking out over the gentle waves, he knew he was alone. No-one would see him talking to himself. "Hi, Mom. I've made it. I passed the Bar and I'm a lawyer now. I never thought I could do anything like this, but Hardcase was always sure. I've always wanted to make you proud of me, and I hope I've got it right this time." Lapsing into silence, Mark sat and watched the sea and felt a deep sense of peace come over him. Finally realising how much time had passed, he got up and started back to the house.

Going back to the gatehouse, he decided that a quick shower to get rid of the beach sand would be in order before starting to make supper. Fifteen minutes later, he was on his way to the main house. The judge was still sitting in the den, hunting for something to watch on the television. "Hi, Judge, anything special you want for dinner? I'm thinking meatloaf and potatoes." Hardcastle turned and smiled at him, "I'm way ahead of you. I've ordered pizza. We're celebrating tonight, so no kitchen duty for us." Mark's smile was answer enough, as he dropped down on the chair next to the judge. "Anything good on? Oh, why am I asking; I'm sure you can find a John Wayne repeat somewhere." The good-natured teasing made the judge laugh.

Half an hour later when the doorbell rang, Mark bounced to his feet with a grin. "Pizza's here." He shot off to the front door to collect the delivery, only to find himself facing a group of friends, all smiling and yelling "Surprise!" Mark just stood in the doorway, clinging to the door handle. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't seem to summon up enough muscle control to close it. Then he felt a strong hand move him away from the door, and open it wide to let the visitors in. The same hand gently turned him around and gave him a push in the direction of the den. "C'mon kiddo, you'll miss your own party if you don't move it." Hardcastle teased as he took in the stunned look on Mark's face. "As you said earlier, 'you should've seen your face'. I'll never forget this, hotshot, you were speechless for at least ten seconds!" At that, Mark laughed out loud, and soon the two men were in the thick of the party, chatting to old friends and celebrating McCormick's achievement.

Three hours later, as the last of the guests drove out the gates, Hardcastle led the way back to the den. "Kiddo … Mark, I just wanted to give you this." The judge produced the small package he had retrieved from his cupboard earlier. "Ah, Judge, you know you didn't have to …" "I know that. I wanted to." Mark thought he detected a hint of uncertainty in the judge's expression. Taking the package, he dropped into the nearest chair to open it. Ripping into the paper like a child on Christmas morning, he soon unwrapped the contents. Black and white check material met his curious gaze. Shaking out the material, he realised that he was holding a chequered flag, just like the ones used on the racing circuit. But no racetrack had ever seen a flag quite like this one. Embroidered in red in the top left-hand square was the figure of lady Justice, blindfolded and holding a sword and scales. In the block next to that was Mark's name and the date he had written his Bar exam. Laying the flag out, Mark noted that the far edge was slightly frayed in places.

Fingering the edge of the flag, he looked up to the judge for an explanation. Hardcastle actually looked away as he spoke, too embarrassed to look Mark in the eye. "I got the flag from a guy I kept track of in Arizona. He owns a little racetrack you know quite well, although it might not be one you want to visit again." The wry humour made Mark grin in understanding. "I told him I was looking for a particular flag, and it turns out he hadn't got rid of it. It's from that race, you know …" The words trailed off until McCormick nodded that he understood. "He stopped using it after what happened to you. I think, he's thinks it's bad luck or something." Hardcastle snorted in amusement at the thought. "Anyway, when I said I wanted it, he agreed to send it to me."

"But what about this, Judge?" Mark asked, fingering the embroidered corner. "I don't know how long it takes to do this, but I'm pretty sure you didn't get it done today." Hardcastle nodded his agreement "I had that done a while ago, after you got the date for your exam." Mark stared at the proof of Hardcastle's faith in his abilities, his thoughts running wild. The judge had arranged this before Mark had even sat the exam, so he hadn't been kidding when he said he knew that Mark would pass. He knew this was Hardcastle's roundabout way of saying that the race was over and that Mark had come out of it a winner. But it was also a symbol of all that he had been and done before going to law school. He could understand Hardcastle's hesitation about giving it to him, but the judge needed to know that Mark didn't regret moving on. Racing had been fun, but the future was looking better now than it ever had before. A large part of that was thanks to the man in front of him, and he knew exactly the right, equally roundabout way to make that clear to Hardcastle. "So, could you give me the name of the person who did this for you? I think I need to add a little something to this block right here." Mark fingered the block under lady Justice. In answer to Hardcastle's raised eyebrow, he quoted "Lady Justice is a tough old broad."


End file.
